(Shoutout to @handleonthescandal for conceptualizing fem!dippin’, an AU where the Pines triplets consist of Fem!Dip, Mabel, and Tyrone. When I recently had the good fortune to spend some time with @dddippinsauce and @equilateral-asshat outside of cyberspace, it was hard to keep the dynamic far from our minds. This fic is dedicated to the two of them ‘cause they’re the bestest chicken nuggets around).
It’s been nearly ten years since the Pines triplets were all together in Gravity Falls for any length of time. They are finally all together, for only a weekend, and Mabel finds herself tempted to pick up right where they left off. Angst, fluff, smut. TW incest. Fem!Dippin Pinecest. NSFW. 11,200 words (ooh what a nice round number!)
Title: Protection Genre: Semi-angsty hurt/comforty pinecestish Rating: PG-13 for swearing and light NSFW content Summary: Mabel always comes when he calls. It’s how she protects him.
Notes: Oh god first GF fic help me. It’s a slightly different flavor of pinecest, but it’s a specific dynamic that I am a huge, huge sucker for when it comes to twincest, and especially these two dorks. This is also based on my personal prediction that in canon, things are gonna get a lot worse before they get better, which is reflected in this fic.
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The call comes at five in the morning. Mabel’s asleep, has been for hours, but when she sees Dipper’s name on the screen she knows he probably hasn’t even laid in bed yet. Her voice is thick when she answers. “What’s the deal, broski?” Feigning a light-hearted tone, even though she already knows, at this hour, why he’s calling.
“Please,” he says, and his voice breaks, and he swears softly. He didn’t want his voice to break right away, she thinks. “Please come up.”
“Of course.” She’s already stumbling out of bed, switching on a light that hurts her eyes, making soft shushing sounds at Fritters when he wakes up at the foot of her bed and blinks confusedly. Me too, kittenpants. Me too. “Just gonna make the coffee and put on some shoes. You have food in the apartment?”
“Sort of.” His voice is still quavering. She’s distracting him, keeping him grounded to the here, the now, the real.
non-suspicious 